


Did I forget to Mention

by Processpending



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Caring Dani, F/M, Fatherly GIl, Sickfic, Whump, eating issues, secrets don't make friends, worried team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21678217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Processpending/pseuds/Processpending
Summary: "You left so quickly after breakfast you, um, forgot your lunch? Thought I'd drop it by on my way to work?" Your back is turned so you miss the way J.T. mouths breakfast? to Dani and Gil, but Bright doesn't and knows he'll be explaining as soon as you leave. "Sorry, I'll just go." You abandon the lunchbox on the table and slip past Malcolm still standing in the doorway.After one fateful breakfast all the things Malcolm's "forgotten" to mention come crashing together in true Bright fashion.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 126





	Did I forget to Mention

No one on the team had missed the six times Malcolm had excused himself since arriving that morning. Gil noted the tremors that wracked his body, weren't his stress-tells, no, these tremors seemed more like his insides were quivering. Dani had been giving Gil looks, concern clear on her features and even if J.T. didn't want to admit it, Gil had caught him watching Bright attempt a casual lean that had quickly turned into him sliding into the nearest chair before he ended up on the floor. 

So of course, someone would come looking for him while he's...indisposed. 

"There's a woman looking for Bright." Gil turns at the officer's voice, not expecting the woman in question to be standing behind him. The officer, having delivered his person, heads back into the depths of the precinct, leaving you awkwardly facing Malcolms' teammates with the uncomfortable privilege of knowing who they are without ever having met them.

"Sorry, I was just-" You hold up a lunchbox, trying to remember that the less you say now, the less you're responsible for later.

"And you are?" J.T.'s voice is sharp, his move to standing would be casual to anyone who didn't remember the bleeding box that he'd errand-boyed to Bright.

"(Y/N)." You turn at the sound of your name, smile breaking out on your face as you see Malcolm, though the slight tremor in his hand belies the smile that says he's equally happy at your presence.

"It's fine." He pats the air, trying to placate his team staring at him, knowing the instant he's said those words he'd chosen wrong. Gil's features tighten as he tries to piece together the events of the morning with your arrival and Malcolm’s uptick in anxiety.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't bother you at work." You suddenly feel ridiculous and know you should've listened to yourself any of the dozen times you'd talked yourself _out_ of coming here. 

"No, really, it's fine." Those two words, the trigger words you know means it's anything _but_ fine are now directed at _you_. And things had been going so well. I mean, you took learning his real name...ok and you got the seal of approval from his mother...sort of. Ainsley seemed to be on your side. Point-five out of three wasn't bad. Right?

"You left so quickly after breakfast you, um, forgot your lunch? Thought I'd drop it by on my way to work?" Your back is turned so you miss the way J.T. mouths _breakfast?_ to Dani and Gil, but Bright doesn't and knows he'll be explaining as soon as you leave. "Sorry, I'll just go." You abandon the lunchbox on the table and slip past Malcolm still standing in the doorway.

"No, wait-" Malcolm turns, seeming intent to follow you, but instead doubles over, pressing one hand to his stomach while the other white-knuckles the doorframe. Gil's attention is pulled from the impressive speed with which you thread your way through the crowded room to Malcolm at the pained noise as he cripples over. Dani is there, keeping him from eating floor, though the worried look she's giving Gil over her shoulder has the older man moving to crouch in front of Malcolm.

"Bright, talk to me or I'm calling a medic." This close Gil can see just how tight Malcolm's jaw is clenched, see his throat move with each convulsive swallow. As though reading his mind, J.T. is shoving a metal trashcan between them moments before bile pours from Bright's mouth. 

Dani doesn't like that she can feel the knobs of Bright's spine through at least three layers but that's quickly moving down her list of concerns regarding the young profiler.

"I'm-"

"Bright, so help me if you say fine." 

"She mentioned breakfast. Think he was poisoned." J.T.'s words have Malcolm twisting in Dani's embrace, nearly sending them both to the floor. Leaning harder into the doorframe, he releases his death grip to sloppily wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"No. She's...it's not." The stress tremors start again.

"Whoa, ok. Let's get you sitting and something to drink." This last is directed to J.T. who rolls his eyes but already had money in hand. Gil takes Malcolm's other side and together they ease him back into the conference room and away from the prying eyes of the officers, into a chair. 

Dani worriedly eyes Malcolm's stomach where he still has one hand pressed. Not liking how the normally concave torso is distended. Maybe J.T. was right and he _was_ poisoned.

"Start talking Bright, before I have every officer in here after her."

"Girlfriend. Breakfast. Doesn't know." J.T. strolls back in, a can of Sprite dangling from his fingers which he nearly drops at Bright's pronouncement of girlfriend.

Gil runs through what he knows in his head: You knew to find him here, you had breakfast together, Malcolm had "forgotten" his lunch and it was home-packed which means they were at either's place, adding that to quivering insides, disappearing all morning and protectiveness of his stomach…

"You didn't tell her about your stomach issues." Malcolm offers one of those ridiculous smiles that tells Gil he knows he's in trouble so he doesn't need to go _all_ that hard.

"Dude. What else haven't you told her?" J.T. cracks open the can and sets it on the table next to Malcolm, figuring handing him a full soda with how tightly he's holding the chair arm isn't the best idea.

"No. She," Bright swallows heavily again and J.T. swipes the trashcan in front of him with his foot. "Soccer?" That earns him flat glares from everyone in the room.

"Focus."

"You're results are-oh, Mr. Bright. You're looking...like you should be on my table." Gil sighs, unfortunately out loud, earning a smirk from Dani. Edrisa. Of course Edrisa would bring their results now. But...

"Edrisa, would you mind looking Malcolm over?" Edrisa's nervous laugh as she eyes Malcolm is the first smile anyone's seen on his face this morning. 

"Want me to play doctor? I mean, I _am_ a doctor so it's not like-"

" _Edrisa._ " Gil cuts off her rambing.

"Right. Symptoms." J.T. is mouthing, _what the hell?_ to Gil over Edrisa's head. Gil knows he should call one of the in-house medics, but Malcolm doesn't seem to be _that_ sick and he'd be more comfortable with Edrisa. He's mostly certain.

Dani rattles off the list of symptoms when Malcolm just shrugs off the question, with an _I'm fine._

The flirty, awkward Edrisa disappears after the second symptom, the shift into medical mind almost physical. Taking a knee before him, her hands hover, hesitant to touch him.

"I need to palpate your stomach." Malcolm nods but makes no attempt at moving the hand still pressed there. “It’d be best if you unbuttoned your shirt.” Malcolm tries, but his hands are shaking too bad and after two knuckle cracking attempts at controlling them, Gil’s there. He fills Malcolm’s view, letting the profiler see the worry as his nimble fingers slip button after button open. Stepping back, Edrisa resumes her place, Dani’s observation more obvious now.

"Firm. I knew it would be." J.T. rolls his eyes at Edrisa's comment. "Though not how I thought it would be." The teasing tone vanishes, "It doesn't seem to be your appendix." Edrisa frowns at whatever she's feeling.

"I had that out when I was ten." Malcolm supplies.

"Eat anything out of the ordinary?" 

"Breakfast." Malcolm's chipper tone is hindered by the rough edge it has from puking.

"Venti indolesco."

"What's that?" J.T. looks around, not the only one finding Malcolm's smile off putting, the profiler isn't exactly known for being the best keeper of his health.

"Severe stomach ache." Edrisa and Malcolm announce together.

"Jinx. _You_ owe me a coke." The squirrely mortician is back. With a sigh, Gil says her name, excusing. "You know, if you need someone to cook for you I make a mean quesadilla." Gil knows that Malcolm doesn't do it on purpose, even if it's a little too well timed, that's just Bright's life. With the mention of food, Malcolm curls over himself, arms wrapping back around his stomach as he retches into the nearby trash can. 

"Sorry, I'll just. Go." With that the medical examiner is gone, but Gil doesn't miss the way Malcolm glances after her, guilt clear upon his face.

"Don't worry, she won't take it personally." 

"Not in my car." J.T. protests before Gil can even ask. Dani rolls her eyes from where she'd taken up rubbing Malcolm's back again. 

"I was hoping you'd get him to the door while I bring my car around." If there was any question about how much Gil cared for the young profiler this answered it in full. Gil loved that car, it was a legend around the precinct and to put a puking Malcolm in the front seat. Yeah, you could say he liked the kid.

"I've got him." Dani nods and with a final look, Gil is out the door.

"Sorry. It's not usually this bad." Malcolm leans back in the chair, eyes closed and breathing deep through his nose, he misses the silent _what the hell?_ that passes between Dani and J.T.

"What do you mean usually? How long has this been going on?" J.T. and Dani both start thinking back, the times Malcolm had shown up slightly late or randomly disappeared for a handful of minutes, only to reappear looking slightly disheveled. How could they have missed this?

“Few weeks? Months? Ish." Malcolm uncurls one arm, bracing himself on the chair arm as though to rise. J.T. is at his other side, doing his best to not breathe through his nose or look at the trash can's contents. 

“She seems nice." Dani offers, not wanting to pry into his life and leave hers open for question. Slowly she eases Malcolm up, J.T. hovering at his other side just in case as they slowly make their way from the room, letting Malcolm set the pace.

"She is." J.T. rolls his eyes at the dopey grin Malcolm gets, which quickly falls as he thinks about how this morning ended.

"So she doesn't know?” J.T. asks, ignoring the glare from Dani.

"That my father is a famous serial killer? Knew I forgot to tell her something." J.T. rolls his eyes.

"I take it she doesn't know about your eating restrictions." 

"Didn't-" The rest of the sentence is lost in a groan as Malcolm doubles over, only J.T. grabbing his elbow keeps him from collapsing to the floor.

"He's fine!" Dani announces to the many eyes that had turned their way. 

"You know, for a little guy you're pretty heavy, settling down already?" J.T. keeps a steadying hand on Malcolm's elbow as he straightens. 

"You good, we can..." Dani jerks her head down the hall towards the bathroom but Bright just shakes his head jaw clenched tight. Gil meets them at the door, frowning when he takes in both J.T. and Dani supporting the even paler Malcolm. 

"Alright, let's get you home." The steps are a feat in themselves and finally Bright is able to collapse into the front seat, a weak smile in thanks. 

"You need anything, you call." Dani commands, holding the car door open as Gil circles around. 

"I'm fine." Dani huffs and goes to swing the door closed only for Malcolm to weakly catch the handle. "I didn't want to scare her off. I really like her." Dani is so stunned by the honesty in his big blue eyes that she doesn't stop the door.

"Kid," Gil starts once they're on their way.

"I know. I should have told her. Dani already told me how I shouldn't keep things from here and that it will only make it worse when I finally do tell her." Gil raises his eyebrows at that.

"Oh, did she now?" Malcolm smiles at him and Gil is reminded of the smart little kid who was always surprising him. 

"She took me being a...Whitley, well. And she wasn't too weirded out about the restraints." Malcolm sounds likes he's describing taking a girl to prom, nervous and excited. 

"I know I've been out of the game for a while, but this seems like the easiest thing to start with." Gil glances over at him, the cramps seem to be tapering off or Malcolm's getting better at controlling his features. It's scary, even to Gil, how quickly he adapts to things like that. That he's obtained that level of skill out of necessity.

"It's the easiest to avoid." It's clear Malcolm is pleased with his aversion skills but Gil practically raised the kid, he knows what to do.

"Malcolm, she sounds like a strong woman. I doubt that. She'd be more upset to know that you've been pretending to eat the food she makes you." 

"Good thing I haven't been pretending then." Gil pulls over right then and there. This isn't a conversation he should be driving for.

"Please tell me that today was just a fluke. That you _couldn't_ avoid eating breakfast with her." Suddenly, Malcolm's twelve years old all over again and is giving Gil his best innocent look. With a sigh Gil looks skyward, sending a silent plea to Jackie for strength. "Do I even want to know how you've managed to pull this off?" 

"Very, _very,_ carefully." The effect is lost as a cramp seems to sneak up on Malcolm, his hand spasming on the door handle.

~ ~ ~

You don't know what to make of the text from Malcolm that asks, ever so politely, if you could come to his place tonight. Would he really invite you all the way over just to break up with you when a simple text would suffice? Yes. Because Malcolm would never do something so rude. Though you're kind of wishing he would. 

You let the text sit for an hour before you finally respond, having half a dozen responses typed out before you delete the whole thing. As if you hadn't already been playing the scene over and over like it was something out of a horror movie.

The trip to Malcolm’s apartment is the shortest and longest it’s ever been. You linger outside his building, convincing yourself to just press the buzzer, but that means forcing Schrodinger to make a decision and you’re really rather enjoying being the cat in a box at the moment. 

You allow yourself a few more seconds before you press the button, “It’s me.” In the silence you think maybe, just maybe, he’s gotten called to another case and forgot to tell you. Though how terrible a person are you that you’re hoping for _murder_ to delay being broken up with?

“Come on up.” The door clicks and you know you have limited time to turn the handle before it relocks. Nope, you’ll do this. What terrible thing did you do besides bring your boyfriend lunch? That you also made for him. You’re still mentally chastising yourself so you don’t realize that you’ve climbed the steps into his apartment until Sunshine’s happy chirps pull you from your thoughts.

Malcolm is waiting for you and the first thing you notice is that he isn’t in his usual suit, rather he’s in a tight t-shirt and loose sleep pants. _Who changes outfits to break up with someone?_ Honestly, it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing about him.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me. I know how we left things this morning wasn’t good and I wanted to fix that.” The only times you’ve heard Malcolm sound like this, like his therapist is leaking out, is whenever he’s nervous.

“I know you wanted to keep work separate, I shouldn’t have come by the station. But we've had a good time, I don't think we should break it off just because I brought your lunch by. I promise I won't do it again." Part of you hates apologizing for doing something nice but the other part of you rationalizes that he _did_ mention wanting to keep his work life separate from his personal life. You thought that meant not talking about cases, not completely separating the two. 

"You...you think we're breaking up?" It's rare that you say something that Malcolm doesn't understand, the confusion clear in his tone.

"Yeah? After this morning and then the text..." You shrug, the hope that you'd been wrong is too good not to hold onto, which also meant shoving away the rising embarrassment. 

“No, that’s not,” Malcolm’s hand starts trembling, you can practically hear his knuckles crackle as he clenches his fist in an attempt to stop them. “I have venti indolesco.” 

"You think I gave it to you? I’m not cheating on you, M. Is that why you left so quickly this morning--you think?” Your eyes flick down as you turn over the term, trying to align it with the many acronyms under the STD umbrella.

Malcolm’s barking laugh cuts you off as you rack your brain for where you’ve heard that word before and just how much worse is this night going to get.

“I _don’t_ think you’re cheating on me. Profiler, remember. I’d know you were before you even did.” He waves away the confusion that statement brings. "Gil said this would be hard." You catch the mutter and wonder what the hell he'd talked to Gil about that he had to talk to you about now.

"M?" You let your bag slip off your shoulder, tossing it on one of the island stools. "Is your mom ok? Ainsley?" He nods at each question as you close the distance between you two. "Martin didn't get released or escape?" His head jerks up at that, eyes widening.

" _God no_."

"Good. Then whatever venti incendio is can't be _that_ bad." He huffs a doubting laugh. You'd gone from thinking you're breaking up to playing Guess the Trauma.

“I think you just ordered a Starbucks fire.” He rests his hands on your hips. You roll your eyes, still worried, though now for an entirely new set of reasons. 

"Venti whatever sounds serious?" 

"It's not, Edrisa was the one to figure it out." 

"That somehow doesn't make it _better."_ He grins at your growing concern, though it quickly falls with his next words. "I was sick this morning when you came in. That's why I was...abrupt.” You feel the tremors in his hands uptick. “(Y/N), most foods make me sick. It’s why I’m so skinny.”

It wasn’t any of the number of eloquent ways he’d dreamt up telling you. He’d spent the hours between Gil getting him situated and you arriving perfecting just how he was going to tell you. And now, in the moment, he falls back into that moment in the morgue with Edrisa when he’d so easily announced it to strangers. Strangers who would eventually turn into his friends. Sort of.

"And you didn't tell me. _Me._ Who's been plaguing you with food for _months_." Malcolm winces at your tone. Gil _had_ warned him. You pull away from him. _Months_. Why didn’t he say anything? You’d taken so much else about his life in stride but he didn’t tell you this. 

“Gil knows because," Malcolm gestures, unable to voice that Gil was a father figure, "and then he told Dani and J.T. when they planned an intervention." He laughs at the memory, Gil had let the two go through with it, only interrupting after they'd shared their (mainly Dani's) concerns.

“So you were just going to...what? Wait until you collapsed in front of me and had a doctor tell me?” You snap the words, whirling on him. His fingers twitch against his thigh. _You_ brought out his tremors. You hate that he didn’t tell you because you’d been together for months, practically living together and hadn’t noticed; but his coworkers had. They had and _noticed_ enough to stage an intervention. 

“ _Why?_ Why couldn’t you tell me?” He hates that there are tears in your voice and pain in your eyes. When he’d feared telling you, it was that you would find further fault with him, it’d never occurred to him that you might find fault within yourself.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” You snort an absurd breath at that, incredulation twisting your features. “I was afraid it would be too much after...everything else.”

"So instead you make yourself horribly ill. That's true love." The words slip free, a joke, a throwaway comment but you see their weight in his eyes.

"Yeah. It is. I love you." He reaches towards you, hesitant. You step into his embrace, his arms coming up to pull you closer as you press yourself to him, looking up into tentative blue eyes, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Can we all take a moment and appreciate episode ten? 
> 
> Did you take your moment? Do you need another for that little surprise noise he made in the hotel room (trying to keep it spoiler free) because I know I do. 
> 
> I'm counting the days until January and we get to find out what happened. I need more Malcolm whump and I feel there's a deficit on fics dealing with his cannon eating issue. 
> 
> I hope this didn't suck! Comments and kudos (or random outbursts) greatly appreciated!


End file.
